


Sorry, I didn't have time to study

by Supernaturalaholic12



Series: Matthew Has Emotions: The Series [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gen, Other, matthew gets kidnapped x, mild/non explicit drug/alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernaturalaholic12/pseuds/Supernaturalaholic12
Summary: Matthew learns why his father made sure his sons could fight, and why Declan hated how careless he was.(Matthew gets kidnapped.)
Relationships: Matthew Lynch & Joseph Kavinsky, Matthew Lynch & Ronan Lynch
Series: Matthew Has Emotions: The Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980977
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Sorry, I didn't have time to study

Bad things always happened on days that started normal, Matthew had noticed. The day his father died he’d been eating cereal, the day his brother nearly died he’d missed a test, and the day he’d been kidnapped his studying was interrupted.

Well, his ‘studying’ consisted of scrolling through Tumblr while sitting at his desk with his textbook open, but that’s neither here nor there.

It was a Thursday, and while Matthew had to be at Church in under an hour, he still didn’t have his shoes on. He’d make it in time though, he always did.

A knock sounded at the door.

Matthew didn’t question it, getting up to open the door to whomever was on the other side. This was something Declan always hated, that Matthew never questioned who was on the other side. Matthew didn’t see why Declan cared so much.

Matthew quickly learned why Declan cared so much, when the door was shoved open and he was knocked to the floor.

His head smacked against the ground, not unlike during practice but with no helmet, and before Matthew had even properly processed what was happening, he felt hands on him.

One leg covering both of his, the other on his arm, and a hand pinning his forearm down, whoever had _broken_ _into_ (is it breaking and entering if you opened the door- _focus, Matthew_ )- whoever had broken(?) into his dorm had effectively pinned Matthew to the floor. Matthew struggled, because of course he did, and when he opened his mouth to yell (before opening his eyes, because Matthew is an _idiot_ ) he felt a large (might’ve been small? Matthew was kinda- very very much- panicking) pill being shoved down his throat, and his vision quickly turned black- from dark red, but still to black.

* * *

The first thing Matthew registered was his head _fucking hurt._

The second was that his hands were tied, he was lying down, and it was either the pill or the loud, reverberating music that hurt his head.

Matthew cracked his eyes open and- did light always hurt this much? Because _damn_ , the sunlight did _not_ help his headache.

He tried to sit up, ignored the growing panic in his chest and throat. That also hurt, because to sit up he had to launch himself upwards (a monumental task, considering the groan his limbs gave him and the spike of pain in his head) and twist his arm way further than it probably should’ve. (‘Way further than it probably should’ve’ or ‘way further than Matthew would’ve liked’ (which is more than slightly)).

Matthew squinted out at the windshield - because of course he was in a car, the door handle was digging against his leg - and before his eyes had properly adjusted to the (honestly quite blinding) light, he felt the car shake. Whatever was shaking - hitting? - the car moved around to the side, before opening the door at Matthew’s head.

“- baby Lynch has woken up!” An unfamiliar voice yelled, as hands reached under his arms and yanked him out of the car.

Matthew stumbled, his own legs unfamiliar under himself. He would’ve fallen, but whoever had tugged him out kept one arm around his waist.

Matthew blinked (a lot) to get the light - and black spots - out of his vision. When he could look around without it hurting as much, he looked to his right - where an unfamiliar grinning face stared back at him.

Matthew was _pretty_ sure he’d never seen that face before, but something in the back of his mind _scratched_ at his skull, like when you were _sure_ you’d heard or seen _something_ , but you just couldn’t remember it.

The face was speaking too, but Matthew hadn’t been listening. He should probably start doing that.

“- tell me Ronan never told you about me!” The voice was saying. He continued when Matthew looked confused. “I’m Kavinsky! Ronan’s _best_ friend. Oh c’mon, he _never_ told you about me?”  
That didn’t sound right. _Gansey_ was Ronan’s best friend, had been for years. Sure, that group had expanded to include Adam, Noah, and Blue, but he was _sure_ he would’ve remembered a name as weird as _Kavinsky_ if Ronan had mentioned it.

Kavinsky laughed - _“that asshole”_ \- and shoved Matthew into a seat.

Matthew looked around, _was Ronan there?_ , and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He wasn’t even gagged, talking just felt like too monumental a task.

“Don’t _worry_ , dream Lynch, your _precious_ older brother- maybe even both!- will be here later. For now, enjoy the party! It’s in your brother’s honour, after all.” Considering it was the Fourth of July, Matthew was pretty sure the party was in the honour of the Founding Fathers, but he would be damned if he tried to argue with Kavinsky.

“Besides, if nobody shows up for you, we can just k- oh!” Matthew’s phone was ringing. He knew it was his because of the terrible ringtone - _Holding Out for a Hero_ from _Shrek 2_ , Ronan’s ringtone for the past four months. The only problem was Matthew didn’t have his phone, evidenced by Kavinsky pulling it out of his own pocket and very exaggeratedly pressing the red _Decline_ button. (Or it _would’ve_ said Decline, but Matthew had paid one of his friends 20 bucks to change it to Declan instead. He had to.)

“Looks like _someone_ wants to talk to you, dream boy! I’m assuming it’s Ronan, but with a contact like ‘squash two’ with not one, not two, but _five_ emojis!” Matthew had felt smart when he’d set that contact number. The emojis spelt out ‘RONAN’ with the first letter of their Discord names. The emojis were a (r)accoon, an (o)ctopus, a (n)ewspaper, an (a)dhesive, and another (n)ewspaper.

(Declan had a (d)agger, (e)gg, (c)ake, (l)eaf, (a)lien, and (n)o.)

Kavinsky blocked another two calls, before he began typing something. Then he got his own phone out, and typed something else. He seemed to get engrossed in his phone, and Matthew took the brief opportunity to look around.

The loud music was still blaring, and only now Matthew understood why. The field they were in was _packed_. He could see at least two half-naked women, and three times as many half-naked men. Beer bottles and cans littered the grass, at least twice as many as the cars spread around. Some of them were unique, a Volvo or a Tesla here and there, Matthew could even see what he _swore_ was Gansey’s car - the Pig, as Gansey so fondly called it - but no familiar faces in sight.

A ringing tone brought Matthew back to his body. It wasn’t his phone - the tone was the default - so it must’ve been Kavinsky. The phone was answered, and put on speaker.

“Lynch, fancy hearing from you.” _Ronan_. Kavinsky sounded like he was having fun.

“Where is he?” Ronan’s voice, angry, thank God (sorry, Declan), came through the speaker. Matthew’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward. _Why_ did his throat have to hurt so bad?

Kavinsky watched Matthew’s reaction with a grin. “You know, I asked nice the first few times. Are you coming to Fourth?” The grin dropped. “Are you coming? Are you coming? Here, have a motherfucking _car_.” He spit the word like acid. “Are you coming? You made it ugly. Bring something impressive tonight.”

Matthew desperately wanted to call out, make any noise. Even the thought of it hurt. “I’m not doing this.” Ronan spoke again. That felt like a stab in the heart. Did _this_ mean Kavinsky’s game? Did it mean saving Matthew?

“Oh,” Kavinsky said, letting out another agonising, despicable laugh. “I think you are. Or! I’ll keep trying different things on him.” Kavinsky laughed again when Matthew’s eyes shot up to meet his. “He can be my finale tonight! BOOM! You want to see something explode?”

Matthew, decidedly, did _not fucking want to die_. At the _very_ least he wanted to go out on his _own_ terms. He _definitely_ didn’t want to die on this _madman’s_ terms.

~~And if his stomach dropped when Kavinsky said the words _finale_ , _BOOM_ , and _explode_? Well, Matthew would never admit that.~~

“You won’t get away with this.” Admittedly, Matthew almost laughed at that. It sounded like a cliché Superhero movie thing to say. ~~Admittedly he was also laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Someone had kidnapped _him_ , to get to _Ronan_. _He’d been fucking kidnapped_.~~

Kavinsky kept talking on the phone, but admittedly Matthew had zoned out. The conversation was getting boring, he was kinda (really) panicking, and also he had ADHD. You can’t really blame him.

* * *

The next few hours drove by in a haze. Matthew could remember pills being shoved down his throat, drinking, one or two unassuming people getting a little touchy-feely (and then immediately stopping when Matthew started crying).

Then Kavinsky had grabbed him, hauled him to his feet (from where he had _not_ been crying on the floor, thanks) and dragged him over to the Mitsubishi (one of hundreds on the grass, Matthew had noted), and shoved him (not gently) in the trunk.

Matthew didn’t like the dark. Matthew _really_ didn’t like the dark. He liked it a lot _less_ when he was locked in a trunk, after getting drugged and kidnapped, while coming down from another high, _and_ being drunk.

He couldn’t remember what Declan had told him about what to do when locked in a trunk. He could barely remember how to breathe right.

_Close your eyes._ A voice in the back of his head said. It took him a second to realise it was, or at least imitated, Declan’s voice. _In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just like that, Matty. You got this. You’re okay._

He’d just gotten his breathing under control when the car roared to life around him, which quite frankly did nothing for his heartbeat.

The car started driving, Matthew couldn’t tell where. It didn’t drive far though, spinning to a stop rather quickly. Or maybe it was just his head spinning.

...His head was _really_ spinning. His stomach hurt too. It felt like something was crawling up his throat too, and- oh shit-

Matthew doubled over as best he could ~~definitely not hitting his head~~ and puked. The trunk _immediately_ stunk of vomit, and Matthew was sure if there was anything left in his stomach he’d have puked again.

_“Let’s burn something!”_ Kavinsky’s muffled voice rang out as the car shook again. A muffled explosion. Another yell. _“Fuck you all!”_

Loud music was _still_ playing. Did they never get tired of it?

Kavinsky wasn’t yelling anymore, and Matthew couldn’t tell if he could hear music overlapping or people talking.

His head _still fucking pounded._ The stench made him feel sick. His puke-soaked clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin.

All in all, honestly, Matthew was having a _shit_ day.

The car shook again as a door opened and closed. Slammed shut.

Silence.

~~As close to silence as you can get, locked in a trunk at a party.~~

* * *

It felt like an eternity in the dark. Matthew could hear fireworks going off, but honestly they were faint enough and predictable enough that after five or so, he stopped jumping at the noise.

Then a loud crash rang out, and Matthew wasn’t entirely ashamed to admit he jumped ~~quite a bit~~ at that. Was everything - ignoring the obvious - okay out there?

Was Ronan there yet? Matthew couldn’t tell if he hoped he was.

Matthew could’ve sworn he heard a laugh.

Another crash. Matthew was starting to hate the dark again.

A long pause.

A door opened again. Matthew didn’t hear it close.

“He’s not in here!” _Ronan_. Ronan was looking for him. It hurt, but Matthew started making as much noise as possible. Banging his hands on the ceiling, kicking the walls as best he could.

Another explosion.

The door slammed shut. Matthew kept banging.

His arms were getting sore. He couldn’t really feel his legs.

He kept going.

Someone - Ronan? - banged on the trunk outside. He started kicking the ceiling, letting his arms fall limp.

_Click_ \- The trunk opened! Matthew kicked it open, launching himself out of the trunk and- oh holy fuck his ankle hurt. He would’ve been able to say he fell all on his own, but just as he started to go down Ronan tackled him.

Matthew was ~~very very~~ _not_ ashamed to admit he cried a bit _~~a lot~~_.

Ronan yelled something. Matthew was _pretty_ sure it wasn’t directed at him.

Matthew’s arms snaked around Ronan, his head looking up towards the car he’d just come from.

~~Matthew found the license plate - THIEF - mildly amusing.~~

Kavinsky stood on top of the car. His arms were sticking straight out, like he was being crucified.

“Come down, you bastard!” Ronan yelled. Matthew wasn’t _entirely_ sure what their relationship was, considering Kavinsky had clearly lied, but he was sure he didn’t like the man.

There was a noise, like wings flapping, but a _lot_ louder. And a bit… off. Like wings but... to the left. In a way. Matthew _tried_ to look to see what it was, but Ronan’s hand threaded into his hair and pulled his head down.

Then the air got really warm, the ground lit up, and then silence.

Just… silence.

Matthew was shaking, and it took him a moment to realise Ronan was shaking too.

* * *

Honestly, Matthew wasn’t ashamed to admit he wanted another hug.

They’d quickly left the party. Most people had run for it when the cars started exploding - that’s what the explosions were. The police hadn’t shown up when they’d left, and Matthew wasn’t entirely certain if they’d even been called to begin with.

After Blue and Gansey had reached him and Ronan, they’d gotten up from the ground and Ronan asked if he was drunk. The answer he got was ‘maybe? probably.’ The next question was if he’d taken any drugs. The answer he got was ‘oh yeah definitely.’

Ronan had seemed ~~very~~ angry at first, then Gansey pointed out Matthew probably didn’t have a choice (which was correct). Ronan still seemed angry, but not at Matthew.

After that, they made their way back to the car - the BMW, Dad’s old car - and had made their way into town. They were still in the car now, Gansey and Blue in the front and Ronan in the back with Matthew. (Matthew never thought he’d see the day Ronan let someone else drive the car).

Matthew was sitting by the window, Ronan leaning into his shoulder next to him. He (Ronan) was typing away on his phone, to a contact called ‘Dickhead D’ (Declan) (Matthew still preferred his contact for Declan, ‘squash one’ followed by emojis). They’d retrieved Matthew’s phone, but it was long dead.

Ronan groaned, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Fuckin’ asshole.” He muttered.

They sat in silence. It took Matthew a minute to realise Gansey was driving them towards Monmouth Manufacturing.

Matthew grabbed Ronan’s hand. Ronan shook his hand off and wrapped his arm around Matthew.


End file.
